《Two Existentialists | S.R.》23
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300 cookies decorated later, Spencer looked like he was going to cry. You felt bad, knowing Lola was crazy about Christmas. You leaned your head against his shoulder, him kissing the top of your head.
"Hey! Lovebirds! I'm home," Nate yelled, walking in from the garage. You laughed and jumped up, throwing your arms around him.
"How was your flight?"
"Would've been better if you have traveled with me like we have been the last 3 years," he teased, causing you to punch his arm.
"I'm so sorry I totally forgot Nate. Otherwise I would've just gotten you a ticket on our flight," Spencer chimed in. You smiled.
"He's just being annoying Spence. Don't make my boyfriend feel bad or I'll actually beat you up," you threatened, sitting back down next to Spencer, lacing your hand with his.
"No worries Spencer, I was just kidding. Besides, a broke college student like me can't fly first class."
"How did you know we flew first class?" You asked, lifting your head. Nate laughed and reached for a cookie.
"Your bag has a first class tag on it," he said plainly, pointing his half eaten cookie in the direction of your suitcase, which was leaning against the wall. Spencer raised his eyebrow.
"That's some good perception Nate," Spencer commented. You rolled your eyes. "Were you serious about joining the bureau?" He continued, causing Nate to choke on the cookie he was inhaling.
"What?," Nate said, coughing. Lola smacked his back, trying to help.
You laughed, turning to Spencer. "Yeah, Nate wants to work with forensics," you explained.
"Well, if you ever want some help with an internship I'm sure I can put in a good word for you," Spencer said with a smile. Nate grinned at him.
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"No way. That would be amazing. Y/N, have I mentioned how much I like your boyfriend," Nate said, walking out of the room. You rolled your eyes again.
"I'm glad you think so," you yelled after him. Spencer's arm wrapped around your waist, causing you to jump lightly.
"Sorry," he whispered, moving his hand. You shook your head.
"It's fine, I wasn't paying attention. Anyway, let's go do another one of our Christmas traditions," you said standing up.
"And that would be?" He asked.
"Watching Harry Potter and drinking butterbeer, of course!" Lola chirped, holding 4 mugs on a tray.
Spencer looked bewildered. You looked at him in disgust. "Don't tell me you've never watched Harry Potter."
"No, can't say I have," he replied.
"Read the books?"
"No."
"Spencer!" You whined. "How many words can you read a minute again?"
"Roughly 20,000." He said. You pulled out your phone, typing quickly.
"Ok, by my calculations, it should take you 54.2 minutes to read all 7 books. But, the first one is tiny, so you can read that in 3.8 minutes."
"You can't be serious," he muttered.
"Oh, I'm as serious as Sirius Black. You won't get that joke but it'll make sense later. Anyway, come," you said, guiding him up the stairs. You walked to the third door on the right of the hallway, opening it and walking inside. You pulled out the first book, handing it to him.
"Y/N," he began, taking the book from you.
"Oh just read it, what's 4 minutes?" You said, wrapping your arms around his neck. "For me? Please Spence?" He frowned, nodding.
"You are very good at persuasion," he murmured, sitting down on your bed and opening the book. You grinned and sat down, laying your head in his lap. He flipped through the pages, his tongue poking out of his mouth lightly. A few minutes later, you heard him take a breath.** You sat up, looking at him expectantly. He closed the book and handed it to you. "Ok, I see why you wanted me to read it," he said, standing up. You put the book back in it's place and smiled.
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"I'm never wrong Spence," you whispered, kissing him softly. "Now, let's go watch the movie."
3 hours later you, Lola, Nate, and Spencer were passed out on the couches in your living room. Spencer and you were cuddled together on one couch, Lola on the other with Nate, half of his body hanging off the couch. Your parents came into the house and laughed, turning the TV off and letting all of you sleep.
"Look how happy they look," your mom commented, seeing you in Spencer's arms.
"He seems like a reasonable young man. Although 6 years?" Your dad countered.
"Oh shush, our daughter isn't stupid and he's not some crazy murderer. He works for the FBI," you mom replied. You dad groaned but didn't argue. He knew she was right.
-
The next morning, you all woke up around 11 am. Your mom was making waffles. "Nate, Lola, stay for breakfast," she ordered. They didn't argue, seeing as your mom made the best waffles they had ever had. At breakfast, your dad began asking you questions. "Any update on MIT?"
"Yeah, I got in," you said quietly, taking a sip of orange juice.
"OH MY GOD," your mom yelled from the kitchen, running in.
"Oh honey, I knew you would," your dad praised. "When are we putting down your deposit?"
"Well, I'm still waiting for my Georgetown financial aid package before I make an decisions," you replied.
"Y/N? MIT has always been your dream," your mom said, sitting down. Lola and Nate exchanged glances.
"I know. But, if I stayed at Georgetown I could stay in my lab and continue my work. I'd be able to have a better thesis."
"Don't tell me you're going to give up MIT because of a boy," your dad said angrily. You widened your eyes, looking at him in shock.
"How on earth did you come to that conclusion? Don't bring Spencer into this. I haven't talked to him
About my decisions. Especially since he told me to do what's best for me. Besides, Lola is going to Georgetown for medical school. And Nate's most likely staying for the forensics graduate program at GW. It's not crazy for me to consider Georgetown. It was your alma mater Dad!"
"But MIT has been your dream. Besides, it's an hour from us," he said, putting his fork down.
"And 7 from everyone else," you said, tears welling in your eyes as you stood up and walked out of the room. Spencer watched you carefully, feeling very uncomfortable. Lola stood up following you. Nate shook his head getting up too.
"Spencer, let's get some air," Nate muttered, pulling him out of the awkwardness.
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